


When I Fall (will you catch me?)

by one_last_surprise



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mild Language, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, some description of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_last_surprise/pseuds/one_last_surprise
Summary: Tony squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He just wanted to feel something other than the...the fuckingfearthat was filling his gut and spreading to his fingertips, threatening to swallow him whole.It was just too much. It was too damn much. A stiffening ache of guilt in his chest mixed with the torn edges of his heart, creating a strange sense of dread that he couldn’t quite explain. He wanted to be there for Peter, but all he seemed to accomplish was putting him in harm’s way. And he just really wanted the swirling emotions to stop knocking him off-balance. And yet he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t tell himself that they didn’t matter.orPeter Parker is injured, and Tony feels like it's his fault.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my second Irondad story! I really enjoy writing these, and I hope you like reading them.
> 
> Please let me know what you think-comments and kudos are always appreciated!

“Boss, Underoos is calling,” FRIDAY called out. 

“Put him through,” Tony replied without looking up from the suit he was repairing. There had been a nasty run-in with a construction crane while Tony was remote-piloting a clean-up crew. (And it totally wasn’t because he had been watching Peter try to create a web-trampoline in the workshop at the same time. It was definitely the crane’s fault.)

The line buzzed for a second as FRIDAY connected the call. Tony kept Peter’s name out of the system wherever Spider-Man was concerned, just in case it was compromised. It wouldn’t be. But he figured it was better to be prepared for the impossible than caught off guard. With a click, Peter’s voice filled the room.

“Hi, Mr. Stark,” he said, sounding breathless, “I um…don’t want to bother you, but um—”

“What’s up, Pete? Another old lady give you a churro? Or was it a cute _young_ lady this time?”

“Hey! That was one time that someone gave me a churro, and it was really nice. Most people don’t give me anything for saving them. Not that I’m complaining. Most do say thank you…and, actually, um,” Peter stammered, “Oh, shit.”

“Pete? What’s going on?” Tony asked, the smile he felt whenever Peter rambled nonsense quickly slipping away. “FRI, track his location for me.”

“Right away, Boss,” the AI responded.

“I just…Well, I was calling to let you know that I was gonna swing by the tower because I have a _teensy_ little injury that needs to be taken care of—”

“What the hell, Parker? Why didn’t you send an alert right away?” Tony ran a hand over his face. _This kid will be the death of me. His aunt is definitely going to kill me._ To FRIDAY, he said, “FRI, power up a suit.”

“Sure thing. Spider-Man appears to have just crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and is headed this way. Mark-62 ready to go.”

Tony left his workstation and suited up, “I’m on my way.”

“No, Mr. Stark, I’m fine, really. I just didn’t want to show up unannounced. You don’t need to—”

“I’ve already left. So tell me. What exactly is this ‘teensy’ injury?” Tony asked, his mind already racing with possibilities. Knowing Peter, he was probably bleeding out on his way to the tower. Tony swallowed a wave of nausea. His mind did not need to go there right now. Or ever.

“Not a big deal,” Peter said, his voice sounding more strained than it had before, “Just a little stab from a burglar. I did manage to web him up though. He was trying to rob this bodega. Then I swung in and was like, ‘Y’know what buddy? People usually get sandwiches here. If you want to make a withdrawal you gotta go to the bank.’ And then he tried taking a hostage, which would have been like _reeaaalllly_ bad. But I shot a web and—dammit.”

“What’s the matter?” Tony asked, his heart skipping a beat. He eyed the red dot marking Peter’s location on his head’s up display. He was about two minutes away. He put the thrusters on full blast anyway.

“Urgfh,” Peter huffed on the other line. The sound was followed by the unmistakable smack of a body hitting pavement echoing through the comms.

“Peter? Pete, can you hear me?” Tony called frantically. _Shit shit shit._

A small crowd was gathered around Peter when Tony touched down in the Iron Man suit a minute later. Using a voice that sounded authoritative from years of practice, he told took charge, even as his heart raced and hands trembled. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the kid’s mask was still on. 

“Please step away from the superhero, folks.”

“Iron Man! Oh wow. Hi,” an awed man said. Tony rolled his eyes inside the suit. 

“OMG, Iron Man and Spider-Man on the same day? This is so cool,” a woman in sunglasses said, her phone in front of her face. Tony resisted the urge to blast it to the pavement. 

“What happened here?” Tony asked, pushing through the crowd to get closer to Peter.

“Dude just fell from the sky. Bam! Right onto the sidewalk. Looks like he’s bleeding pretty bad, too,” a teenager not much older than Peter said, holding a skateboard under his arm. His enthusiasm was grating in Tony’s ears. _Don’t these people realize there is a person inside that suit? A fucking human being is inside that suit._

“Yeah he just came falling straight down. Didn’t even try to land on his feet,” a lady with a hint of concern in her voice remarked. Tony turned to her. She had a stroller and was wearing leggings and a neon yellow shirt. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked kind, motherly. Actually helpful.

“How long ago did he fall?” Tony asked her, still in the suit.

“Oh, um, like a minute ago,” she said, eyes widening when she realized he was addressing her. _Shit, and he was still conked out?_ Tony hurried over to Peter, using his body to shield the boy from invasive onlookers.

“Spider-Man, you there?” He asked, lifting the face plate of his suit. Peter didn’t move. He longed to tear Peter’s mask off, but he couldn’t risk having one of the Curious Georges snapping a picture. Tony’s stomach swirled at the sight of a massive gash in Peter’s right side. A heap of red-stained webbing couldn’t hold back the blood still spilling onto the sidewalk. “A teensy wound, huh? FRI get me vitals. Now.”

“Pulse is weak. I detect a concussion, four broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, broken collar bone, broken arm, lumbar injury, broken ankle, dislocated knee, and a major stab wound. Internal bleeding is likely. I suspect he lost consciousness due to blood loss, causing the fall.”

Tony felt his heart plummet farther and farther from his chest to the floor with each word. _This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening._

——— ——— ——— ——— 

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He just wanted to feel something other than the...the fucking _fear_ that was filling his gut and spreading to his fingertips, threatening to swallow him whole.

It was just too much. It was too damn much. A stiffening ache of guilt in his chest mixed with the torn edges of his heart, creating a strange sense of dread that he couldn’t quite explain. He wanted to be there for Peter, but all he seemed to accomplish was putting him in harm’s way. And he just really wanted the swirling emotions to stop knocking him off-balance. And yet he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t tell himself that they didn’t matter.

Every time he got an anxiety attack, he knew what he had to do but it didn’t seem to make a difference. _Deep breath in, hold, breathe out, repeat._ Focus on what’s real, not on the endless spiral of what ifs. But no matter what he thought of—a new gauntlet design, paperwork Pepper had sent over for him to sign, a cup of coffee—his mind fought against it. The thought of doing anything, even a minuscule task, made him want to puke. Never safe. No one’s safe. Fear. Fear. _Fear._

“Get it together,” he muttered to himself. 

He opened his eyes again, knees weak. Tony stumbled over to the nearest workstation. He just needed to do something. To work. Working was better than thinking. 

Tony picked up a screwdriver and began taking apart his latest gauntlet design. It was what he did best, anyway, tear things apart. 

Tony broke down and rebuilt every piece of Iron Man gear he had laying around the workshop, but he was constantly aware of the unease flowing through his veins. 

He felt it in his rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms. He saw it in the slight shake of his fingers while tightening a screw. He heard it echoing through his mind. 

_Fix it. Fix it. Fix it. Can you? Wreck it. Break it. You deserve this. You can’t fix it._

After what felt like days, but a quick glance at his watch told him had only been about four hours, Tony heard the door open. 

“Hey, Tony?” Pepper’s voice lifted him from his trance. He tensed, every fiber in his body thrumming with worry. 

“Yeah?” Tony responded, his voice strangled. He kept his eyes on the computer in front of him.

“He’s out of surgery. He’s okay,” Pepper said, saying the words they both knew he needed to hear. She walked over to Tony, placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a soft squeeze. He leaned into the touch and placed his own hand on top of hers.

The words sent a shock like a bolt of lightning through Tony. The waves of anxiety that had been washing over him, filling him with tension, seemed to slowly start drifting away. He felt as though he’d been climbing a mountain, the air growing thinner with each breath, and was now he was finally tumbling down the other side. 

“He’s okay? Did someone notify May?” Tony asked, shifting as he turned to face Pepper. _I should have told her. That should have been the first thing I did once I got him back here._ Tony cursed at himself inwardly.

“He’s still out of it, but he will be. And yes, she’s with him now,” Pepper surveyed Tony, her hand once again reaching for his. He didn’t bother trying to hide the worry in his eyes. He gripped her hand like an anchor in a storm. 

“Okay,” Tony said, nodding slightly and standing. “Okay. I’m...I’m going to wait for him to wake up.”

“Tony, it’s 1:00 am and he won’t be cognizant for at least a couple hours. Even so, he’s not alone. Please come to bed and get some rest,” Pepper begged. 

“Pep, I can’t,” Tony ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t sleep when it’s my fault this happened in the first place. I need to be there. Please.”

“First of all, It’s not your fault, Tony. I know I won’t be able to convince you, but you’ve got to understand,” Pepper replied, her eyes blazing with purpose, “and secondly, since I know you’re going to go, at least sit down and close your eyes for a second while you’re in there, okay?”

“Of course, honey,” Tony said, giving her a quick kiss before heading up the stairs to the medbay. 

Tony was at the the door to the room when he felt the crashing waves of worry hit him again. 

_What if the surgery was a success but there’s an unforeseen problem? What if the kid doesn’t want to see me? What if all I can ever do is break things and ruin things and fail?_

He leaned against the wall, pressing his palms to his temple. He was back on the street, holding a limp Peter. A Peter who had called for help minutes earlier. A Peter who was hurt because of him. 

“Tony, are you okay?” 

Tony glanced up from the ground to see Dr. Cho looking at him, concern covering her usually calm features. 

“How is he?” 

“There were some pretty bad injuries, but the surgery was a success. I’m surprised he made it as far back as he did before collapsing. This kid is either completely oblivious to pain or really good at ignoring it. With his healing ability, he should be up and swinging in about two weeks,” Helen said, a reassuring smile wiping away a fraction of the anxiety in Tony’s chest. 

“Thank you, Helen. We’d all be walking around with missing arms and legs if it wasn’t for you,” Tony attempted a joke. 

Dr. Cho rolled her eyes

“I’m going to wait with him, for when he wakes up,” Tony said, more of a statement than a request. 

“Of course. It may be awhile. Try to get some sleep yourself while you’re in there,” she said. 

People were always telling him to sleep. To rest. But how could he? How could he close his eyes when there was still more he could do to keep people safe? 

“Yeah, yeah. Did you consort with Pepper?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“I can see the bags under your eyes, Mr. Stark,” Helen replied, lacing the words with sarcasm. 

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Tony replied, only half-joking. 

“Won’t we all. Goodnight, Tony,” Helen said, waving a hand as she turned to walk away. 

“Night,” Tony said, turning the handle on the door to Peter’s room. 

The room was dark, save for one muted yellow lamp on a table by the hospital bed. Tony hated this room. He hated that Peter spent enough time in the medbay to have a room decorated just for him. He hated the Spider-Man stickers on the window and the fuzzy Star Wars blanket on the bed. He despised the offensive tubes and needles poking and prodding at Peter’s skin, even though he knew they were keeping him alive. This wasn’t right. Peter in a hospital bed bruised and broken was so damn _wrong._ He dreaded seeing what the kid looked like in the light of day.

And then he tore his gaze away from Peter and saw May.

She was sleeping in one of the two armchairs in the room, her legs curled up beneath her. She had pulled the chair as close to the bed as possible and was laying her head next to Peter’s side. One arm served as a pillow and her other rested on top of Peter’s. 

Tony silently took a step backwards and shut the door. Pepper was right. May was who Peter needed right now. She had never hurt him. Had never wanted or encouraged the dangers of super-heroism for her nephew. She supported Peter and questioned Tony ever since Germany. Rightfully so, he knew. What had he been thinking when he dragged a fifteen year old kid overseas to fight the fucking _Avengers_? It was insane. He rubbed his eyes, leaning against the doorframe in the empty hall. His body begged for sleep, but his mind began designing new Spider-Man suits. An automatic parachute seemed like a good addition. 

Tony spent the next few hours in the workshop. He knew what Pepper would say: _Distracting yourself from a problem doesn’t make it go away._ He knew what he would reply: _This isn’t a distraction. I’m finding solutions._ Anytime he thought of a new problem (What if Peter got trapped underwater?), he designed a new suit function (waterproof suit material with oxygen mask). It was methodic, familiar work that he was good at. If nothing else, it let him pretend he wasn’t worrying.

Around 4:00 am, the blue screens he was working on began to swim in front of him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember when the last time he slept was. He sat down in a desk chair, lazily spinning it around.

“FRI,” he yawned, “tell DUM-E to get me another cup of coffee.”

“Boss, it has been approximately 53 hours since you last slept. I recommend—”

“Did Miss Potts put you up to this?” Tony interrupted, his eyelids becoming heavier with every passing second.

He leaned onto the desk and rested his chin in his hand. Maybe he would take a break and sleep after one more web shooter update. To appease Pepper.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was bright, and it warmed Tony’s back. Something misty hovered in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision. A cloud, he realized. He caught a glimpse of blue and red through the cloud and smiled as Peter’s laugh filtered through the air back to him. But as he passed through the cloud, the joy turned to dread. Peter’s limp body was plummeting toward he ground. Something had happened. Something Tony hadn’t seen, and Peter was falling. He was unconscious and falling and Tony was trying to grab him, but he was just out of reach. Why wasn’t he in an Iron Man suit? Shouldn’t he be falling uncontrollably too? 

And then he heard a cry. And Pepper was falling. She locked eyes with Tony, hair whipping around her face and eyes wide with fear. He crashed through another layer of clouds, the unforgiving pavement of the city lying just below them, and braced for impact, but a familiar red and gold suit enveloped him before he hit the ground. As he landed softly on his feet, he saw that Peter and Pepper hadn’t been so lucky. He choked back a strangled cry and rushed over to their sides. He bent down and reached out to feel for a pulse, but his hands were dripping with blood. _No no no no…_

“Tony, wake up,” a familiar voice cut through the haze and pulled Tony from his nightmare.“Wake up, it’s just a bad dream.”

“Pep?” He murmured, opening his eyes. He wasn’t standing outside in the sun. He was bent over a desk in his workshop, a dozen coffee cups scattered around his arms. His heart was still racing.

“I’m here Tony. You’re okay,” she said, wrapping him in a hug from where she was standing. His head rested against her stomach, and he leaned into her, soaking in the scent of lemon, clean laundry, and coffee that enveloped her. 

“What time is it?” He choked out, unable to block the images flashing through his mind.

“About 6:00 am. I was getting ready to head out to San Francisco for that tech conference,” Pepper replied, running a soothing hand through his hair. Tony bolted upright, his back protesting from the awkward angle he’d fallen asleep at. Pepper took a half-step back in surprise.

“I’ve gotta go check on Peter,” Tony said, wide awake.

“He’s fine, Tony,” Pepper said, lightly pushing his shoulders back into the chair. “I wish you took better care of yourself.”

He eyed the assortment of half-finished caffeinated beverages littering the table. He rubbed a hand over his face and let out a deep sigh. It looked bad. He avoided eye contact with Pepper; he really didn’t want to see the disappointment he knew would be in her eyes.

“The only reason I was sleeping just now was for you, FYI,” Tony replied.

“Congratulations,” Pepper raised her hands in mock cheer, “You slept for a couple hours at your desk and woke up sweating from a nightmare. I’m serious, Tony.”

“I’m fine, I promise. I’ve survived a lot worse,” Tony said, the weight of the first arc reactor too heavy to forget, even long after it had been removed from his chest.

“You’re hiding,” Pepper replied matter-of-factly, nodding to the work table.

“I’m working,” Tony muttered softly. They both knew Pepper was right.

“How so? Because it seems to me that you are avoiding all responsibilities,” she said, “Talk to me, Tony."

Tony met Pepper’s gaze. She wasn’t walking away until she got an answer from him. He was still amazed that she wanted to be with him. Even after all his screw-ups and constant self-sabotage, she still chose him. He didn’t deserve her. He grabbed her hand.

“Really, Pep. I’m okay. The whole thing with the Spider-ling just has me stressed,” he said. Pepper sighed, lowering her head as she shook it slightly.

“Just don’t…don’t disappear,” she said, waving her free hand over the mess on the table. “The kid looks up to you, Tony. All he wants is for you to be there for him. He doesn’t need you to do anything else. It’s all any of us want.”

“But I can’t even do that. I wasn’t there for him, and look what happened. He could have been _paralyzed,_ Pepper. Fucking paralyzed. And I fail you every day. I know I do,” Tony paused, his heart rate speeding up again. He began rubbing his wrist, a nervous tic he could never seem to shake.

“Hey, hey,” Pepper said, lightly cupping Tony’s face with her hands. “I know it’s scary, Tony. I know you feel responsible for him, but Peter is capable of making his own decisions. You can’t beat yourself up for this. And I love you even when you’re an ass. I just want you to be able to live your life without worrying about saving everybody else’s.”

“He called for help, and I wasn’t there. So I’m down here _working_ —not hiding,” he insisted, “to make sure something like that never happens again. I’m just trying to do what’s _right._ And you shouldn’t call the man who hired you an ass.”

“And you shouldn’t ignore the calls of the woman in charge of your company. Yet I _still_ don’t have those legal documents from you,” Pepper rolled her eyes, trying her best to hide a smirk.

“They’re right here,” Tony grabbed them from underneath a mug.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said sweetly, “But you’re not getting off the hook that easy.”

“Ughhhh,” Tony whined, giving the chair a spin.

“Tonight, you’re sleeping in the _bed_ in our _bedroom,_ a place most people would prefer to a desk chair. You’re not spending another night down here. And I _will_ call FRIDAY to make sure you follow through,” Pepper asserted, planting a light kiss on his forehead. Tony relaxed his shoulders, a sense of relief temporarily quieting his mind.

“Yes, Miss Potts,” Tony sighed in surrender, “Now can I go check on the Spider-baby?” 

“Please shower first. You look like you live in an auto-shop. Grease everywhere,” Pepper smiled, waving a hand in front of his body before walking away.

“Love you, too. Have fun with all the boring suits in San Francisco,” Tony said. He took one last glance at the comforting blue holo-screens, powered them down with a trembling hand, and prepared to see Peter. 

——— ——— ——— ———

Tony stepped off the elevator to see May walking out of Peter’s room.

“Tony. Hi,” May said. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she ran her fingers through a lock of knotted hair. Dark circles under her eyes matched his own. 

“May, I’m so sorry,” Tony said. 

“Look, Tony. I know it’s not your fault. We both know there’s nothing that could ever stop Peter from putting himself in danger for someone else. But when we talked about this, you promised that you’d keep him safe. You told me that he wouldn’t be doing any huge missions—”

“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve kept a closer eye on him. It’s...” Tony sighed, unable to overcome the lump forming in his throat. 

“I know it’s all dangerous. It scares me when I think about it too much. When shit like this happens, I can’t just ignore it. He’s my kid, and I _need_ to keep him safe. And I can’t do it on my own; I need you to help me,” May finished. She stared at Tony with the same earnestness that lit Peter’s eyes. 

“Seeing him like this wrecks me, too,” Tony said, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve already made eight upgrades for his suit and I’m working on about a dozen more. I’ll do better, May. I swear.”

“That’s great, Tony, but could you please talk to him? I know he doesn’t tell me everything. And honestly I’m glad he doesn’t. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it,” May smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just...try to get through to him. He admires you like no other. You’re a real role model for him. Much to my dismay.”

 _No wonder the kid’s a wreck._

“Yeah, of course. I’ll do my best,” Tony replied with a nod. 

“Thank you,” May said, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“Are you headed to work?” Tony asked. He was desperate to change the subject. The weight of the responsibility he held was growing by the second. It felt like cinder blocks were piling on top of his shoulders. Maybe they would push him through the floor so he didn’t have to face any more disappointed people today. 

“Unfortunately,” May sighed, glancing at the door to Peter’s room. 

“Don’t worry he’s under close surveillance,” Tony said. 

May gave a half-hearted smile, although her eyes glistened with tears. 

“Take good care of him. I’ll be back tomorrow,” May said. 

“I will,” Tony assured her. May wiped her eyes and headed to the elevator. Tony took a breath and reached for the door handle. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s eyes lit up as Tony walked through the door. Tony pulled off his glasses, pasted on his best smile, and greeted the kid. 

“Heya, Pete. Next time you want attention, there’s no need to fall forty feet from the sky. Twenty will do,” Tony said, pulling up a chair. Peter rolled his eyes. 

“How soon before I’m outta here?” Peter asked, despite the fact that he was in a back brace and several casts. 

“Are you serious, kid?” Tony felt his heart skip a beat. “You’ve got 24 stitches in your side and about a billion broken bones. You look like someone wrapped you in toilet paper and pushed you down some stairs.” 

“I do not. Besides, I heal fast.”

“And yet when you stub your toe it’s like the sky is falling,” Tony countered. Peter scowled, scrunching his nose in the process. 

“C‘mon, Mr. Stark. May said that the doctor said two weeks. But that’s so long,” Peter whined, for once sounding like the teenager he was. 

“Well then two weeks it is, Spider-boy. This isn’t a ‘one parent said no so I’ll ask the other one’ situation.”

“Hmph,” Peter huffed, crossing his arms and accidentally grazing a broken rib in the process. Tony winced as Peter grimaced. 

“Look, Peter, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but part of the job is taking care of yourself, too. Can’t be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if you’re squashed on the pavement,” Tony tried to joke, but the humor got caught in his throat. He fiddled with the glasses in his hands. 

“I’m okay, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, studying his mentor. 

“I know,” Tony replied, more to himself than to the boy laying in the hospital bed. 

Sure, Peter was okay and healing faster than imaginable. But what if he hadn’t called? Would Tony have gotten there in time? Probably not. And that small realization hit Tony like a truck. It broke down the walls he’d been building over the past several hours, allowing anxiety to seep in and settle deep in his bones. But this worry was…different. It wasn’t an overwhelming sense of helplessness and fear. It had a direction. Tony’s breath caught in his throat. It was stemming from anxiety about _losing_ this kid.

He looked at Peter, so fragile amongst the bedsheets and bandages. Bruises littered his skin. His cheeks lacked their usual rosy flush, and his hair was a matted mess. Tony shoved the tinted glasses back on and stood up in a hurry. 

“Mr. Stark? What’s wrong?” Peter implored, lowering his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Sorry, kid. I just remembered I have a meeting I’ve got to get to. I’ll be back later,” he said. A lame excuse, but the room was starting to spin, and all Tony could think was _retreat, retreat, retreat,_ even as a part of him whispered to stay. _Don’t run, stay and fight through it. Don’t leave him. Don’t fail._

“Don’t worry, I’ll just be stuck here. Like a prisoner!” Peter called as Tony walked out the door. 

Tony hurried down the corridor, avoiding eye contact with any nurses milling about. He just needed to get _out._ He hurried to the elevator and punched the button that would take him back down to the workshop. He needed to get there before the blood in his veins turned to ice.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator, clutching his arm. He simultaneously wanted to suit up to blast his way through a brick wall and sink into bed under a pile of blankets. The ding of the elevator door brought him back to reality, and he stumbled over to a chair. 

“FRIDAY, initiate the—the Leave Me Alone Protocol,” Tony stammered, mouth dry. He took deep breaths to try and slow his pounding heart as the glass walls darkened and lights dimmed. Rock music filtered softly through the speakers.

Tony was used to worrying. In fact, he probably needed it to function normally at this point. It drove him to build and create. But this…worrying over a kid? It felt unusual. But Tony knew, even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it, that Peter had grown closer to him than he ever intended. He cared about Peter like he was his own flesh and blood. And there was no way he would let the kid see just how terrified he was of losing him. He knew how deeply Peter cared about people, and the kid hated feeling like a burden. 

“Get a grip, Tony. You’re Iron Man for fuck’s sake,” Tony muttered under his breath, holding his head in his hands.

“Boss, would you like me to alert Pepper Potts or the Intern?” FRIDAY’s voice rang out, and Tony snapped his neck up. He did not want either of them to see him like this. 

“Why the hell would I want that, FRI? It’s called the Leave Me Alone Protocol, not Family Game Night,” Tony said, tapping his finger against his bouncing knee. 

“You programmed this protocol to help you calm down. I have noticed that you seem to relax with Miss Potts and Peter,” the AI spoke so confidently that Tony was silent for a moment.

“Oh,” he managed. FRIDAY’s suggestion caused him to stop and think about its implications. He knew what a comfort it was to have Pepper. He’d already be a dead man if she wasn’t around. She’d found him torn and tattered and helped stitch him back together. 

Peter brought him a different kind of peace through a somewhat frenzied mentor-mentee—father-son balance that filled the cracks in his heart. Tony thought back to work days in the shop, and how his chest swelled whenever Peter figured out a complicated suit design. Or how he beamed whenever Peter called to tell him about his patrol in too many details. Or how the kid he’d held at arm’s length had somehow become an essential component of Tony’s life. Tony smiled at the memories, the image of Peter unconscious on the ground fading away as it was overtaken by Peter trying to balance on a web tightrope in the workshop. And Peter groaning in frustration over a complicated calculus problem but bursting into the lab a few weeks later with an A on his test. And the way Peter’s eyes lit up whenever Tony asked if he wanted to stay the night at the Avengers Compound.

Tony leaned back in the chair, the nervous energy that had surfaced in the medbay slowly subsiding. Instead of an immense roar, it was more of a dull buzz humming in the back of his mind. Peter _would_ be okay. An accident had happened, and Tony would make sure it didn’t happen again. He was able to look at some plans for modifications to Peter’s suit without feeling like he was about to throw up the toast he’d scarfed down that morning. Tony took a deep breath, steadied his hands, and got to work. 

_Peter’s okay. He is healing. He is fine,_ Tony repeated to himself like a mantra as he worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments:)


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days passed by in a blur. It was a flurry of meetings with Dr. Cho and instructions to nurses. Tony had Peter moved to his regular bedroom and out of the medbay as soon as possible. The warm tones and messy desk were a welcome contrast to the sharp cleanliness of the medbay. Plus, Peter’s room was just down the hall from Tony’s suite. May dropped in often to check up on Peter, but work kept her fairly busy, so Tony offered to care for him as he healed. His back injury meant no activity for a week, which Tony thought was pretty fucking miraculous (only seven days for a back injury to heal?), but Peter seemed to think it was the end of the world. 

Everyday brought a new challenge that Peter was determined to handle without help. It wasn’t a new character trait, but now it resulted in funnier outcomes than usual. Tony was used to Peter attempting to handle criminals by himself and ending up with a broken nose or bloody gash in his arm. Now he wound up stuck on the floor or unable to tie a shoe. Tony was enjoying the bumbling mess that was Peter Parker. It was much more reassuring than images of him falling from the sky. 

“You want help?” Tony asked, stopping in Peter’s doorway on his way to the kitchen when he saw the kid’s arms flailing. He already knew the answer. Peter was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding up a white t-shirt with some sort of nerdy quote on it.

“I can do it myself, Mr. Stark,” Peter huffed, attempting to put the shirt on. Tony watched, amused at the look of concentration on Peter’s face.

“Whatever you say, Spider-Man,” Tony replied, stifling his laughter with a hand as the the shirt caught on Peter’s wrist brace and pulled taunt against his face. His lanky arms were bent at awkward angles in the sleeves. The opening for his head lay uselessly on the back of his skull, a mess of curly hair peeking through.

“You’re just jealous because you’re not as nimble as me,” Peter shot back, his voice muffled by the fabric. Tony took a step towards him, unhooking the shirt from the brace.

“Well, it takes my body about as long to heal from a bruise as it takes yours to heal from a broken bone, so…”

“Hmmph,” Peter sighed as he pulled the shirt over his head. It rested awkwardly over his back brace.

“Y’know, you’re only going to make things worse if you keep trying to do all this shit on your own,” Tony warned.

“I’m fine. I just want to get back out there,” Peter said, leaning back against his pillows and gazing out the window where the moon was already shining brightly amongst the stars. Without Pepper or May to keep them in check, the two had a habit of 2:00 am bedtimes.

“Why the rush?” Tony asked, a coil of anxiety bubbling in his stomach. He was perfectly fine with keeping Peter at the Avengers Compound for the foreseeable future.

Peter shrugged, and Tony thought he saw a flicker of doubt creep across the kid’s features. Maybe he was taking a page out of Tony’s book and acting like everything was under control when it was really spiraling into chaos. It was easier to put on a brave face than admit you’re falling off a cliff with no end in sight, Tony knew. If you couldn’t count on a superhero to hold things together, the whole world would be a terrified wreck. Peter’s voice tore Tony from his thoughts.

“I’m sick of the constant Baby Monitor Protocol-ing,” Peter finally said with a small grin.

“Oh come on, Parker. I thought we were past that,” Tony rolled his eyes. “You put one clever safety feature on a kid’s superhero suit and he never lets you forget it.”

“You could have at least told me it was there!” Peter exclaimed.

“You would have just disabled it sooner,” Tony retorted. “But seriously, kid, why are you so eager to hit the streets of Queens again? Don’t you want a little break?” _You wouldn’t want a break if you were him,_ Tony told himself. _There’s always more you can do._

Peter paused, studying a picture on the wall behind Tony as he formulated an answer.

“I just have a lot of time to think when I’m stuck in here all the time. And it’s annoying,” he said. Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Thinking is annoying? Since when does straight-A student Peter Parker think _thinking_ is annoying?” 

“I…I keep replaying the whole fight in my head and wonder if I had done something differently…” Peter muttered. Tony clicked his tongue. He couldn’t argue with the kid when he felt the same way. But he wanted Peter to avoid all the holes he had fallen into over the years. 

“That’s a really good way to start working on a simple project and wake up with fifty Iron Man suits in your basement,” Tony replied, a knowing glint in his eye. 

“You have fifty Iron Man suits in the basement?” Peter asked, his eyes growing wide as he leaned forward.

“Had. I destroyed most of them,” Tony answered. “But this is about you, not me.”

“Well I just want to get back out there and start doing things. Doing _good_ again,” Peter said.

“Eight more days and I’ll let you swing around the trees in the yard,” Tony promised with a grin. Peter frowned.

“Well don’t come calling for Spider-Man the next time somebody tries robbing you,” he said, crossing his arms.

“I wasn’t planning on it. Think I’ll just let Iron Man know. Or maybe Happy. He’s got a mean right hook,” Tony said as Peter snickered.

“Thank you, really, Mr. Stark. You didn’t have to do all this. I could’ve gone home with May,” Peter said. His innocent brown eyes pierced Tony’s heart.

“Of course,” Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. “If I had been a little faster or paying better attention...you wouldn’t have even needed—”

“Stop it right there, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, sitting up again and clumsily throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He moved stiffly with the back brace, and one leg was hindered by a cast that went up to his knee. Tony blinked at the kid in surprise.

“Okay...” Tony said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He took a slow step over to the bed sat down next to him. Peter rarely ever interrupted him. And when he did, it was usually because some sort of unauthorized experiment had gone wrong. (Like the time a new web fluid formula turned out more like superglue than spiderweb. It took a week to get the lab cleaned up).

“You’re like the strongest person ever. And it’s not your fault that this happened, okay? Sometime crappy things happen. And then sometimes we deal with them in crappy ways. We just have to get up and keep moving forward, right? You did everything the best you could. I don’t need you to always be there to catch me. It’s just…it’s nice to have someone to help me back up after I fall. And I can always count on you for that. So thank you,” Peter said, his eyes ablaze with determination.

_I can count on you._ Tony let the words wash over him and quell the unease rattling around his mind. He felt the statement work its way to his heart and steady its uneven thumping. 

Tony whistled sharply. He sometimes forgot how intelligent Peter was.

“That was quite a speech kid. You wanna do a TED talk?” Tony fiddled with his hands, feeling strangely vulnerable. “Thanks for saying that.”

“I just...I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t come along,” Peter said, looking up at Tony. Trust that Tony was underserving of was painted all over the kid’s face.

“I think you’d be just fine, Pete,” Tony said, patting Peter on the back, and he believed it. He trusted Peter, and he knew that he was capable of far more than Tony was willing to admit.

“Yeah?” Peter asked, the word distorted by a yawn. Tony stifled a smile. 

“Yeah.”

“But I see the fear in all of your faces,” Peter said, his wet eyelashes blinking up at Tony as tears brimmed in his eyes. “I do my best. I try to stop the bad guys. And you all get hurt anyway. I stress you out. I worry May…” Peter threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Who says you stress me out?” Tony asked, heart beating a little faster. He’d always been good at hiding his emotions. Years in front of the press as both Tony Stark and Iron Man had taught him how to get the job done without falling to pieces along the way.

“Oh um,” Peter’s cheeks reddened, “I can tell, Mr. Stark. I mean you barely said hi to me in the medbay. I—uh I can tell when you’re anxious sometimes.”

“Well shit, Pete. I feel exposed,” Tony tried laughing it off, running a hand through his hair and averting his eyes.

“Sorry,” Peter said, seemingly shrinking into the bed.

“It’s not _you_ stressing me out,” Tony said, “It’s my brain. You actually…Well according to FRIDAY, you calm me down, kid.”

“What?” Peter asked, furrowing his eyebrows and turning back to Tony. Tony took a deep breath. He felt so vulnerable. If Peter wanted to take his heart out of his chest, Tony would let him. He just wanted to rewind the past year and fix every instance where he’d failed the kid. But then Pepper’s words came back to him: _All he wants is for you to be there for him._

“You give me hope for the future. I see so much light and goodness in you, kid. You’re strong, smart, capable, and not too terribly annoying,” Tony said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile. “I think the world will be okay, so long as you’re around."

“Really?” Peter asked, staring at the floor. 

“Yes.”

“But you did totally freak out in the medbay,” Peter pointed out. “I’m smart. You said it yourself. I can tell when you’re, like, stuck in your head.”

Tony let out a sigh. This kid was just going to break down all his barriers tonight, apparently. 

“You don’t have to tell me why, though,” Peter hurriedly added.

“I just had a lot on my mind. You try scheduling a meeting with eight different people in five different time zones,” Tony joked as he searched for an actual answer. 

“I’m _sooo_ sorry for your struggles, Mr. Stark. But I broke a few bones in my back and had an extremely long surgery, so I think I was deserving of a _little_ sympathy,” Peter said with a playful undertone. Despite Peter’s easy smile, Tony could see the kid’s eyes searching for any crack in his walls. 

“It’s just scary to see the people you love—the people who are stronger than anyone else you know—lying in a hospital bed,” Tony said.

“Oh,” Peter said, pulling at a loose thread on the comforter. He sat silent for a minute, apparently puzzling out what to say. 

To Tony’s surprise, he didn’t say anything. Instead, Peter leaned his head on Tony’s shoulder, his body tense as though uncertain if he’d made the right call. Without thinking too hard, Tony pulled his arm up and wrapped it around Peter’s shoulders. The kid instantly relaxed into Tony’s side as best he could with the various contraptions encasing his limbs. Tony’s mind began to wander as the two fell silent. 

Maybe the worry he’d felt in the medbay had been different than what he was used to, but it had still sucked. Now that he was sitting here with Peter, safe and warm and sleepy, he thought maybe it was worth it. He could handle a little more worry if it meant he got moments like this. Moments he’d willingly surrender sleep for. Moments he wouldn’t trade for anything.

“I have one more question,” Peter announced, his voice cutting through the silence that had enveloped them. 

“Shoot,” Tony replied. 

“Are you…um doing okay?”

“I am now,” Tony said without hesitation, his heart swelling as Peter nuzzled into the crook between his shoulder and neck. 

He let the feeling bloom in his chest. Tony knew there would still be times he’d feel like he was tumbling over the edge of a waterfall. But when he reached the bottom, hopefully there would always be someone to pull him out, dry him off, and help him to his feet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading to the end! I hope you enjoyed the story:)


End file.
